bergina leka photographer Archives

Jun

Piccole cose – Little things

Queste piccolezze, che ai miei occhi sembravano il mondo,
si sono lentamente seccate.
Queste piccolezze che mi riscaldavano il cuore,
sono lentamente cadute.

Vagheranno ancora per poco
Trasformandomi in un ricordo di quel che ho voluto essere,
Ora sono un tronco,
pronto ad essere riciclato.

These little things, which to my eyes seemed like the world,
they slowly dried out.
These little things that warmed my heart,
they slowly fell.

They will wander for a while longer
Turning me into a memory of what I wanted to be,
Now I’m a trunk,
ready to be recycled.

Oct

La pioggia

Cade giù leggera.
Accarezza le case,
accarezza le strade.

Cade giù leggera.
Lava i colori,
lava le tristezze.

Cade giù leggera.
Bacia i miei occhi,
bacia la mia pelle.

Jun

Before having Isabelle it was “easy” taking pictures. Anytime I felt like it was a good day going out there and search for something special, I could do it. In my bag there was always my flash, 2 other lenses and obviously my Canon. Very often I would take my tripod too, mostly to experiment with long exposure.
Well, Isabelle came and I had to reduce my gear. So the first to be kicked out was my tripod. Luckily Isabelle was growing healthy and that means she was gaining a lot of weight. In no time she was double her size at birth, so I had to lighten my bag and soon enough the only thing I could take with me was just my camera with a 17-70mm lens.
Well I thought, what else could happen to make my job “more difficult”. I was wrong. Isabelle, very often wants to be carried and my camera seems a funny toy to her. So I started to stop and photograph something only when I was 200% sure it was worth it.
During our trip in Albania I was more busy translating conversations between my parents and my husband, who by the way after 4 years of marriage can barely say How are you in albanian so the time to take pictures was drastically reduced.
Two days before our return in UK I could finally meet with my best friend, who lives more than 2 hours away by car. On our way there we found a lot of traffic and we got stuck for another hour. Everybody was hungry. It was almost 3pm. Isabelle was super bored in her car seat and tried all types of cries to make us free her.
It was an absolute nightmare. We started to sing and to play with her, but no way, all she wanted was to get off and run.
Finally we arrived in Fier and our meeting point was my friend’s working place.
I was rushing to meet with her and I was holding Isabelle in my arms. My husband was waiting downstairs for us.
Even though I was tired and I knew I had no time, I couldn’t not notice this staircase and I absolutely loved it and I really wanted to photograph it. I tried my best to hold Isabelle with one hand and the camera on the other one. I took only these two shots and that’s it.
Back home I finally could edit both those and was very happy with the outcome.
I submitted the vertical one to Vogue Italy and they published it. When I saw it published, it really made me happy and it reminded me that if you really want to achieve something there is nothing to stop you, but you. Never give up on your passions !

Check you Vogue Portfolio .

Nov

And then I became his wife (the story of a project)

It was like a chapter of my life was going to end. It was like, I was living the last hours of who I was. I had to climb the bridge and there was no turning back. Although I was sure that I really loved him, I was scared. In a few hours I was going to promise to him that I will love and respect him forever…. and that was the word that scared me most: FOREVER. I was leaving everything behind and I was going to become somebody’s wife. What happens if I don’t feel free anymore? What happens if I stop loving him? What happens if we change so much that we even recognise our self?
That was my last night like a single lady. I woke up and the sun was kissing the last drops of the rain of yesterday night and was smiling to me. Far way from home I was bounding my life with that of another man. I wish my mother had seen me that morning and had said to me that I was the most beautiful bride of all the world. I was just about to run away … I wasn’t ready. But then I saw him and I remembered how much I loved him. I remembered all our laughs, how I feel protected on his arms. I was scared, oh God knows how much I was scared… but finally I was ready to start this new adventure. I thought, what happens if I don’t have him on my side for the rest of my life? I kissed him and then I became his wife.
Devastated

Sad bride

This is my territory

I don't want to be here

Bride kissed by the sun

In the ice

Trying to relax

Bride and the Sun

Selected and published as story of the week by JPG Magazine

Jun

Fjalet e qiririt

This beautiful poem is written by Naim Frasheri, one of the most important writers of the 20th century in Albania. To read the english version of “Word of the candle”, follow the link www.albanianliterature.net
The poem is translated by Robert Elsie

Në mes tuaj kam qëndruar
E jam duke përvëluar,
Që t’u ap pakëzë dritë,
Natënë t’ua bënj ditë.

Do të tretem, të kullohem,
Të digjem, të përvëlohem,
Që t’u ndrinj mir’ e të shihni,
Njëri-tjatërin të njihni.

Për ju do të rri të tretem,
Asnjë çikë të mos mbetem,
Të digjem e të qanj me lot,
Se dëshirën s’e duronj dot.

Unë zjarrit nuk i druhem
Dhe kurrë s’dua të shuhem,
Po të digjem me dëshirë,
Sa të munt t’u ndrinj më mirë.

Kur më shihni se jam tretur,
Mos pandehni se kam vdekur;
jam i gjall’ e jam ndë jetë
jam në dritët të vërtetë,

Unë jam në shpirtin tuaj,
Mos më kini për të huaj,
M’është falurë durimi,
Andaj po digjem si trimi,

Se ma k’ënda t’u bënj mirë,
Të mos mbeti n’errësirë.
Jakëni rreth meje rrini,
Flisni, qeshni, hani, pini,

Në shpirt kam dashurinë,
Pa digjem për njerëzinë,
Lemëni të përvëlohem,
nukë dua më të ftohem,

Dua ta djek trupn’ e kretë
Për atë zotn’ e vërtetë.
Me zjarr ta djek mushkërinë
E të tretem për njerinë,

Bashkë me gëzimt të tija
të vete te perëndia.
Unë dua njerëzinë,
Mirësin’ e urtësinë.

Në bëhi shokë me mua,
Në më doni si u dua,
Njëri-tjetërin në doni,
Të paudhë mos punoni.

O zëmëra fluturake,
Qasju pakë kësaj flake!
Mase krahët t’i përvëlon,
Po dhe shpirtin ta shënjtëron.

Unë duke përvëluar,
Njerëzit i kam ndrituar.
Kam qënë mik me njerinë,
Andaj i di e më dinë.

Gjithë tuajt’ i kam parë,
Mëm’ e at’ e fis e farë,
Si tani gjithë i kam ndër mënt,
Që rrininë më këtë vënt.

Edhe sot nër ju ata shoh,
Se shpirtin e tyre ua njoh,
Dhe unë si ju jam ndruar
E jam përzjer’ e ndryshuar,

Pa jam bërë shumë herë
Zjar e uj’ e balt’ e erë.
Jam një shkëndijë pej qielli
dhe një drudhëzë pej dielli.

Edhe ndër qiej fluturonj,
Edhe brënda në det qëndronj,
Shumë herë fle në baltë,
Diku ndodhem dhe në mjaltë

Bënem qëngj e kec i pirë,
Lul’ e bar e gjeth i mbirë.
Dua shumë fjalë t’u them,
Po trëmbem mos i bënj ujem.
E ku shkruhenë në kartë
Fjalët’ e gjuhësë zjarrtë?

Naim Frasheri

May

Do not speak

It was October 2011.
My youngest sister (at that time she was just 19) had just arrived in Italy to continue her studies at the roman university Roma Tre.
Like I did 8 years before her arrival, she left everything behind, our family, her friends, her memories … everything. She came to live with me, and unconsciously she brought me back in time, when I was 18 years old and had just arrived in Italy. I saw on her face fears and doubts that 8 years ago were mine too.
I saw myself on her face. This is why I decided to work on a autobiographic project. Since I wasn’t ready to point the camera on my face, I asked her to become my model.
I wanted to show how a person can feel in a foreign country; how difficult the initial time can be.
To make it more personal, I decided to add Rome as a background element at least in one photo.
On the roof of “Musei Vaticani”I had an idea. The distance between us and the city inspired me, I thought it was a good element to have in my project. I tried a few shots.
When we went back home, and I was editing my photos, I realized that there was an element which I hadn’t valued at the beginning: the shadow on her mouth. I had an idea. Eureka! I emphasized it, and the shadow became a gag. Yes, that was what I was looking for: the huge distance between me and the city and the inability to speak. I saw in that specific moment “Do not speak!”
When you are new and, specially when you are alone, integration might be very difficult due to the barriers that a group put in front of the newcomer.

The photo is part of the project holding lightly

Apr

Help me God !

I love sharing this photo and the reason that I do like this one is to show to all that, in our very fast and high-tech world, there are still people who reminds us the simple things of the life. They just stop and, with simplicity, show a world that we very often ignore.
My journey in Vienna was coming to end and I was spending my last moments at S. Stephan’s Church.
I do like spending some time inside a religious place and observe the people. I do classify them in 3 main categories.

1- The Curious. They just want to visit another typical place, taking some pictures and show to all the friends, when they will be back home, what they have visited.
2- Art lovers. They enter in a church only to admire the masterpieces on the walls.
3- Believers. They want to meet God and want to ask him for mercy, help, love, understanding … they want that somebody hears them. They want to open their hearts and talk with honesty.

I was looking for this category of people. I was waiting for the right person, the one who will make me think, “yes, it is worth to light up a candle and whisper a pray”.
I tried some shots, but I wasn’t satisfied, the light was not right, the moment was caught wrong or was not what I wanted to transmit. So I decided to stop and observe rather than shoot.
I saw him coming close to the stand, taking a candle and lighting it up and, when he was just about to place it next to her “sisters”, I heard my camera’s “click” and I knew I saved that moment.
This photo is the good combination of these ingredients: having a photo idea, previewing the photo, waiting for the right moment, speed on shooting and luck.
Yes, Help me God !

This article was published first on Picture Power on the section My most powerful picture

Mar

Arcangeli and their music

One day I received a call. A nice voice from the other part of the phone kindly requested to be photographed with her friend while they both were playing the harp. That lady was Helena de Rijke, the member of the harp duo Arcangeli. I got surprised, I never thought that there is still somebody who plays this instrument. Well, I must admit, I normally listen rock music and there are a lot of guitars and drums on the stage, so the harp for me was an instrument, which belonged to the past. I was wrong. I admit it.
We scheduled an appointment and we met at the South Western House, a wonderful building in Southampton.
I discovered that the harp was regularly used by many baroque and classical composer – Handel, Mozart, Boieldieu, Albrechtsberger, Schenk, Dussek, Spohr, Berlioz, Liszt, Puccini, Debussy, Tchaikovsky, Strauss, Wagner. This was a big surprise for me. I could recognize its magical sound and felt very shy for having gave no name for a long time to the instrument. Now I know this instrument… now I can hear it. What I’ve learned thanks to the photography is that we see what we know and we know only what we see! This is a continuous lesson… this is what photography always teaches to me. It was wonderful meeting Arcangeli, Helena and Jenny and listening to their wonderful music.

“Arcangeli” Harp Duo | Website: www.harpitecture.com
Jenny Broome | Email: jenny@harpitecture.com
Helena de Rijke | Email: helenaderijke@hotmail.com

Jan

Ieri ho sofferto il dolore

Ieri ho sofferto il dolore,
non sapevo che avesse una faccia sanguigna,
le labbra di metallo dure,
una mancanza netta d’orizzonti.
Il dolore è senza domani,
è un muso di cavallo che blocca
i garretti possenti,
ma ieri sono caduta in basso,
le mie labbra si sono chiuse
e lo spavento è entrato nel mio petto
con un sibilo fondo
e le fontane hanno cessato di fiorire,
la loro tenera acqua
era soltanto un mare di dolore
in cui naufragavo dormendo,
ma anche allora avevo paura
degli angeli eterni.
Ma se sono così dolci e costanti,
perchè l’immobilità mi fa terrore?

Alda Merini

The photo is part of the project Self-Portrait